


She came a knockin' on hells door

by SydMarch



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, add more tags as I go, angsty, depressed but optimistic, finding the best in the worst situation, hancock tries to help sole, might introduce charon, probably chem addiction, sole is trying to be happy, sole visits memory den, starts slow, third rail - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:41:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydMarch/pseuds/SydMarch
Summary: When Eleanor met Hancock she wasn’t 100 percent F.O.V (fresh out of the vault) but it was her first week. Her mind still stripped raw from the devastating event of Nate being killed and shaun being kidnapped, well babynapped. Eleanor was always the one to try to improve the situation. Make jokes, trying to cheer herself and others up but this wasn’t like most times.





	She came a knockin' on hells door

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own fallout or Bethesda ;-;

Chapter 1. 

I’ve never walked this much in my life. I remember when me and Nate would walk around our small suburban neighbour-hood and have picnics in the forest, that was before we had Shaun. But all of that is gone now. All of it. Nate. Shaun. The forest. Nature. It’s all destroyed. Although things are destroyed I’m trying to find the fun in it, like what would happen if you planted tomatoes or potatoes. I’m still yet to find a living tomato, all I’ve found is this funky purple corn that makes my mouth tingle when I eat it.  
I’ve found refugee in my old home and I use that term loosely. Codsworth told me its been 200 years. I wonder when us vault dwellers where supposed to get out, but I guess we were just some experiment that was cancelled, maybe that’s why they took Shaun. Some part of a sick plan. I am determined to find Shaun, I have to. He is my baby, all I have left of Nate, even of the pre-war world.  
But then again I guess it was never supposed to work out. Total annihilation. We were all supposed to die, but here we are. I’ve met a couple people but all of them were feral. Not like zombies, but inhumane. There were body parts strung everywhere like a B grade gore flick.  
I hope there are still civil people out here. What I would die for just to have a good old conversation. Just my luck. I notice a fella sitting down in a dingy wooden chair, drinking some kind of beer. I wonder.  
“Hey!” He looks at me. Oh shit, I notice the giant gun in his lap. It’s not like any other gun I’ve seen before. I’m sure he couldn’t seen my face drop.  
“I told you raiders to stay out of our territory for the last time.”  
I notice the black symbol of a head with a cross in the forehead. Oh no, pirate like symbols are never good. I try to run away as he aims the gun for me. It surprises me. At first nothing happens. Then boy, its like a grenade but a million times worse. I barely escaped, my arm broken. My clothes black from whatever shrapnel that was on the ground. My arm is buggered, too useless to fight. So I ran the way that my gut told me too.  
Hell’s bells were ringing by the time I approached Goodneighbour. Bright vibrant signs, street signs pointing their way. It’s like they were begging me to go there. I bet I would’ve died if I didn’t force my way into the place. Ears ringing. Blood dripping. Adrenaline rushing. I wonder what happens when my adrenaline wave crashes. Whoops, shouldn’t have spoken so soon. This guy approaches me and talks about some kind of insurance, at this point to me its all a bunch of shapes and mumbled words. I try to push past him but he grabs me. I think I pass out for a bit because I wake up in an entirely different spot. 


End file.
